Sempiternal
by Autumn Win-Dow
Summary: Despite all that happened, I still regard him as my one and only son.


**_Sempiternal_**

**by Autumn Win-Dow**

* * *

It was painful enough for me to attend my own daughter's funeral – something that I had expected to occur way after my own.

But of course, that didn't happen. I was still standing as a man in his late forties – still without a single grey hair nor a strangely irregular heartbeat – while my twenty five year old daughter was being lowered into the ground, in the middle of heavy rain which could almost pass off as a storm.

Not many had turned up to the event, due to the terrible weather. And to be honest, I couldn't care less. The people who had been invited, but didn't attend in the end, were the ones who had intended to appear for formality only. However, as I glanced around at my surroundings before the funeral, I noticed that not one person of whom Mikan truly cherished was absent.

I almost smiled at the fact. I was happy that Mikan had managed to find herself true friends, despite her short life.

However, that was one of the only brief times that I was able to feel a slight feeling of happiness.

I drowned out the droning voice of the priest as I focused my gaze on the grass. I could only think about Mikan – all of my memories with Mikan. I still maintained a clear memory of the day when she was born – New Year's Day was a very minor concern to me ever since that day. Ever since she was born, the first of January had ingrained itself in my mind not as the first day of the year, but my daughter's birthday.

And I was sure that it wasn't going to change, even after today.

Watching her grow up was the greatest delight of my life. I fell in love with her. She was the mirror image of a young Yuka – which I was delighted by – but what amazed me even more was that she had apparently inherited my personality.

But as I continued to realise that she was gone, and I would never be able to hold my daughter in my arms ever again, I felt my heart constrict. It hurt. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, and combining with the rain which soaked my hair and my face.

I couldn't give a damn about getting a cold. All I wanted was to hold her, talk to her, or even _see_ her one more time.

I had always watched tragedies about a parent losing their child to the harsh realities of death, but I never imagined it to be this painful. I was sure that if I _did_ lose my daughter, I wouldn't want to live anymore.

I was right, but the suffering was even worse than death itself.

It was as if something had dug into my chest and tore all of my vital organs out. Despite having no health issues, I couldn't breathe well as the funeral progressed. Despite the rain, my mouth felt dry and sore. Despite the solid ground I stood on, my body would not cease to shake. And despite the blood pumping through my veins, my heart felt like it was failing to reach any part of my body – as well as being unable to survive.

When a parent loses his child, it isn't just tears and broken hearts. It feels like your whole body is a carcass – void of life – and all of your vital organs are useless to you. Your lungs won't operate properly, your stomach will forever be empty, your limbs won't listen to you, and your heart is void of life itself – to the extent that the literal meaning would sound much better to experience than the metaphorical one.

I knew for sure that Yuka felt the same. I could sense her beside me, as she failed to hold in her sobs – she was always a strong woman when it came to emotions, but as she stood beside me with trembling legs and slumped shoulders, I knew that it wasn't always the case. I immediately pulled her close to me chest, and despite the rain, I could feel her burning hot tears soak into my already drenched shirt. Sensing from her tight grip on my jacket and her relentless sobs, Yuka was in despair. She had always – like me – treasured Mikan above all else.

Yuka was one of the reasons why I _wasn't _going to leave this world, like Mikan did. Seeing her in such a state simply made me feel even more in pain – I pulled her as close as I could towards me as I continued to tear up.

Usually when I saw Mikan when she had grown up into a woman, I saw Yuka in her.

But at that moment, I could only see Mikan in Yuka.

I hugged her even tighter. I didn't want to let her go.

* * *

It was when almost everyone else had left that I could finally control my own body again. I felt like I had cried forty years worth of tears in that half hour. With the help of the cold rain, the tears had left a stinging sensation in my eyes. I knew that I was going to get a cold soon after, but I was able to numb out the freezing feeling from inside.

Eventually, the rain had eased off – turning into a light shower. After greeting the people who had attended – including her favourite homeroom teacher, her close friends and later, on, her best friend Hotaru – I made my way back to where Mikan was buried, in order to say a few words to her privately.

However, someone had beat me to it.

It was a dark haired man – also drenched from the passing rain – crouched on the met ground and murmuring words to her.

I could only imagine how Natsume, as her husband, felt about Mikan's death. He probably felt as devastated as I did, if not worse.

Even though I hadn't really trusted him at first – it was his eyes and his earrings which made me very skeptical about Mikan's 'type' – I had eventually grown to understand that underneath his rough exterior, there was almost no one who could hold a love more true than he did for Mikan, despite how sappy it sounded.

I definitely meant almost, because no love could ever surpass the love a father has for his daughter. That was one thing I was so sure of.

As I approached the grave, the small grains of cement crunched under my feet, thus alerting Natsume of my presence. The glance he sent me was initially annoyed, but it seemed that the fact that it was _her father _that changed his expression.

"Izumi." He simply acknowledged as he stood up straight from his crouch.

"Natsume." I replied with the best grin I could muster.

I was right. He was utterly _devastated. _

I knew that, because I had never seen him shed a tear before.

I came closer and placed a hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. The only way I could imagine how he, the lover, felt about her death, was to imagine Yuka dead.

It was just as heartbreaking.

But I noticed something different in his expression. I had a growing sense that he was feeling isolated – his mother had died while giving birth to his sister, his father had died in a car accident, and his sister had been killed in a plane crash after leaving the country temporarily for work. And with Mikan – his wife – gone from his life, I could only imagine how terrible and alone he felt.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked the strangely pale Natsume, as he pressed his lips together in a line.

He pondered for a moment – which in fact felt like ten minutes – before answering. "The fact that I'm an unlucky bastard when it comes to family."

_I knew it._

I didn't bother asking 'why' he felt that way – I was quite aware of what he was mourning about, and I knew that he knew that too.

"It has nothing to do with you personally, Natsume. It's just…" I attempted to comfort him, but I wasn't able to come up with a valid response.

Instead, I sighed before changing the topic.

"They all loved you, Natsume. The fact that they're… not here anymore won't change that. And as he father, I would bet my life that Mikan loved you more than anyone else… well, _almost _everyone else."

I was able to get an amused huff from my son-in-law because of my little ice-breaker, and I was a little relieved that he was feeling slightly better, despite the circumstances. However, his light moment had disappeared as fast as it arrived.

"…Yeah. But I feel cursed. It's always been like this." He bitterly scoffed as he shook his head. "The people in my family die. My parents are dead, Aoi is dead, and now even my wife is dead… screw feeling cursed, because I _am _cursed. And because of that, my whole family is gone."

I could tell that he was starting to lose his composure again. Single tears were starting to emerge from his eyes. His jaw and his fists clenched, and he gripped the wet strands of his black hair.

I had never imagined seeing his hair look even darker than it was dry.

I, Izumi Yukihira, learnt one thing on the day of my daughter's funeral.

Natsume Hyuuga, my son-in-law, was in fact a vulnerable man.

"Natsume," I spoke as I comfortingly patted his back. "Let me repeat this. Their deaths had nothing to do with you. I'm certain about that. And also…"

It was something that I had never expected to admit during my time as a father-in-law. Natsume and I had never been 'best buds', and we never really appreciated each other's presence. We didn't exactly hate each other, but it was most likely the fact that we both held a firm possessiveness for Mikan – I as a father, Natsume as a husband – and neither of us liked competition. However, I would probably prefer him over a son-in-law of whom was a pushover.

I was thankful that Mikan had married Natsume. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't imagine a better partner for her than him.

"…you still have family." I admitted as I smiled slightly.

He gave me a confused side glance as I tried my hardest to convince him. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, despite our differences, and our arguments, and the fact that we usually don't get along, I still consider you my son. Yuka does, as well. And even though you probably don't feel the same about us, we're very proud to admit that we're your parents."

Natsume was evidently caught off-guard by my words. He stood there, wide-eyed, as he tried to comprehend. It seemed that he had never actually considered what I had told him.

I wasn't offended. It was just like him to forget the little, yet important things.

He said nothing else. Natsume simply burst out in tears – unable to restrain himself – as he fell to his knees once again. However, I could see the hint of a smile on his lips as he let it all out, and I continued to pat his shoulder.

Maybe for me, that was a good thing. I probably would have cried too if he had called me 'Dad'.

Because despite all that happened, I still regard him as my one and only son.

* * *

**_A/N: This fis is probably really incoherent. You see, this is the first time I've become teary while writing a fic. It was mainly the intro which made me cry a little. Because I could never imagine how devastating it is for a parent to lose a child, or for a husband to lose a wife, because I am simply too young to understand. That is why family tragedies are much sadder than romance tragedies. This is probably off the mark emotion-wise because of that. And I was typing with feels. So yes, incoherency._**

**_I'm also pretty rusty when it comes to first-person, too._**

**_I would really apprecicate critical feedback. :)_**


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